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Leg Post 113
In Leg Post 113, Circe, the powerful witch, is on her island home of Ææa, which is fashioned entirely of ancient orichalcum. She is filled with anger as she ascends the central tower of the island, through the beating wind. She storms into the bedchamber of her lover, Scylla, to find her with another woman. Scylla is a naiad while her lover turns out to be a vampire-like creature, NeSferatu, which Circe only learns after she blasts her with a spell from her wand. The woman, named Sappho, jumps through a window to escape Circe's wrath and is able to run so fast she runs across the ocean. Scylla begs for forgiveness, insists that she loves Circe, and then pleads for mercy when Circe grabs her. Circe tells her to stop begging and, to silence her, blasts her with the wand in an unthinking moment. The spell painfully transformed Scylla into a monstrous creature and she falls from the tower, only to crawl into the ocean as a disfigured, hulking beast. After that, The Scylla follows her master across the ocean as Circe travels to the Levant to enact a dark and grisly ritual with Sauda, as outlined in Leg Post 101. Post Betrayal 1320BC Circe held her hat as she hurried up the winding staircase. The winds were strong on this day and battered the exposed staircase as it spiralled around the outside of the tall tower. It, and the entire island, were fashioned from orichalcum, one of the strongest substances in the universe. Solidified magic. The whole island, named Ææa, was floating within sight of northern Italy, but on days with bad weather the view was clouded and the island swayed and bobbed uncomfortably. Usually orichalcum would sink in an instant, being such a dense material, but there was spellwork on the underside of the orichalcum island that caused the solid material to repel from vril, which was gathered beneath the island, causing the orichalcum to hover slightly, appearing to float upon the water. While it would never tip over, it certainly rocked around. Circe was used to it, like any lifetime sailor, but she hurried for another purpose, and that purpose was rage. The veil from her hat was whipping behind her wildly. It was as long as her dress and, in such weather, was proving to be a hazard. She snatched off the hat and threw it over the side of the staircase. It flew away in the aggressive winds. Her long hair, coloured blonde but with two stark streaks of black either side of her temple, was now billowing in the wind instead. She was tempted to blast that off too, only it would require a shot from her wand. Her dress was a cumbersome affair too, with shoulders that stuck up beyond her own head and a whole lot of belts and tassels. It all looked very grand and imposing to visitors, but was a stupid annoyance right now that was only making her even more angry. Her high-heeled boots smacked the orichalcum; while the material was dense, the outer layer was lusciously soft and so her boots didn’t have the same satisfying clomp it would have on stone. Finally, she reached her girlfriend’s bedroom and barged in. Circe: “YOU!” The two women leapt from the bed. Fortunately, they were clothed, but had been caught in a moment of intimacy nonetheless. Sappho: “Who are--?” Circe wasn’t in the mood to talk this out. With her wand, she blasted the stranger. The woman screamed with pain and anguish as her skin blistered and she fell to her knees. It was satisfying to see the woman suffer, but it wasn’t what Circe had expected to happen. Circe: “Not a human, I see.” Her girlfriend, though Circe didn’t think she deserved that term as of now, leapt from the bed and interjected herself in the path of the wand. Scylla: “Please Circe! She didn’t know--!” Circe: “That’s no excuse!” Circe managed to curveball a shot from her wand so that it skimmed by Scylla and struck the woman. Sappho was thrown off her feet and smashed into the wall. Despite her skin blistering and breaking just moments ago, it was already healing over as the cells knitted back together. Scylla: “Run, Sappho!” Scylla jumped at Circe and grabbed her wand hand and pushed the weapon towards the ceiling. A rogue blast of magic streaked out and slammed into the orichalcum, were it harmlessly dissipated. The dark-haired intruder staggered to her feet but took her lover’s advice and jumped through the window, breaking and shattering it with a tremendous crash. Circe managed to shove Scylla aside and ran to the window. She saw Sappho land on the floor, several storeys below, and started to conjure up lightning strikes from the already clouded sky. The woman, however, moved in the blink of an eye. Some kind of vampire, Circe mused, and watched Sappho run so fast she could run over the water, straight towards Italy. Circe could chase her down, easily even, but now she wanted to turn her ire on her supposed partner. Circe: “How could you!?” Scylla: “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please forgive me!” She was over ten years younger than Circe, and a part of Circe tried to consider this as grounds for mistakes, but her Circe’s heart was just as fragile no matter the experience of her lover. Even now, the youthful face of Scylla made her look all the more desperate and innocent. But no… Circe: “You betrayed me! How could you do that to me!?” Scylla: “You’re always away and I—” Circe: “Don’t you dare do that! Don’t you blame me! You can’t make me feel guilty for what you did!” Scylla: “Okay, okay! It’s all my fault! I’m sorry! It’s all me! Please, please forgive me!” Scylla was a naiad, one of the water nymphs associated specifically with fresh water rather than the Oceanids of the saltwater variety, and therefore came with a whole culture that differed from the wilder and more bold Oceanids. The naiads were typically more graceful and loving in nature, and so even Circe’s cold heart was warmed by the beauty and manners of this youthful spirit. Most were faithful, though possessive and jealous, so this turning of tables had taken Circe by complete surprise. She had thought she knew her love of three years. Circe: “No! No! No!” Scylla: “Please! I beg you, Circe! I’m sorry! I was wrong! I was horrible! I was selfish! Please! I love you!” Circe: “Don’t say that!” Scylla, seeing an opportunity to press her plight, dropped to her knees. Her own blonde hair was extremely long and full and fell onto the ground all around her like a sea of yellow. She bowed her head and then looked up with large, watery eyes. Scylla: “I love you!” Circe: “No you don’t! Stop saying it! I hate you!” Circe grabbed the traitor by her hair but through her screams, Scylla still shouted; Scylla: “I love you! I love you!” Circe: “Stop it! Stop! Stop!” Scylla: “I love you, Circe! I love you!” Circe: “I said stop!” There was a sudden boom and Circe realised what she had done. The wand in her hand felt very, very heavy. She looked down at it, she could still sense the tingle of transformed aether around its tip, and then down at the writhing body of the girl she had loved. Scylla’s screams of pain fell on deaf, stunned ears. Circe was horrified by what she had done, but a deep and nasty part of her was smug with satisfaction. Scylla deserved it. Circe stepped back. If Scylla could have cried for mercy, she probably would have, Circe suspected. But now that the transformation had begun, Circe had no intention of offering forgiveness. Instead, she used her wands to manipulate the spellwork on the orichalcum walls of the tower. Sappho had leapt through the window, but Circe just moved the walls aside. Another flick of the wand and wind blew the pulsing, mutating body out into the air. The scream that plunged down from the tower was no longer the pleasing lilt of a naiad, but the grotesque squawk of whatever monstrous abomination she was changing into. She had tried to do that to Sappho and wondered if Scylla would be untortured had Circe had been able to eke out her vengeance upon the vampire creature, Instead, Scylla would pay. Circe felt a dark pit in her stomach and it was very heavy. She hated Scylla with such incredible violence and yet loved and mourned for her. She hated herself and yet pitied herself. She didn’t know how she was supposed to feel. She wanted to stop the transformation that was still destroying Scylla far below, but she also wanted Scylla to suffer beyond measure. Instead of doing anything, Circe just cried out a deep growl of primal anger at the wind that whipped across the floating island. Circe had always been a sinister presence in the world, ever since her birth, but with Scylla she found some measure of goodness that had been locked inside her. And that goodness she had found was now mutating, along with its owner. Circe: “You did this! You did this!” She screamed down at the creature that was now crawling along the island. A massive, ugly, bulky monster with fins and legs and tails and eyes. Many, many eyes. It didn’t understand where it was, or what was happening to it, Circe could tell. But finally, it managed to plunge into the ocean. Some years later, Circe travelled across the ocean towards the distant lands of the Levant. Her pet creature, The Scylla, swam deep beneath the ship. When the witch was on land, the beast lurked near the shore and waited for her mistress to return. At least now, Circe knew, Scylla could never betray her again. Sauda: “The ritual begins. Are you sure you have the stomach for this?” Circe smiled. She had deformed the only woman she had ever love, butchering other people’s squalling offspring would be easy. She joined the dark mages for the ritual and, as promised, she was able to make her deepest wish… Notes Britt's Commentary "This is somewhat based on the original myth of Circe and Scylla, only there the two women are in love with one man and Circe, in a fit of jealousy, transforms Scylla into a beast. I didn't want such a sexist, shallow cliché so I altered it slightly so that Circe's damning of Scylla would be out of legitimate pain. In truth, I was still very unhappy with this post at the time of writing, to the point I considered deleting it shortly after posting it." ~ Britt the Writer References External References Category:Post Category:Leg Post